When he first laid eyes on me, I was flattered.
My lips curved into a smile, I almost forgot that it was 2am and too dark to determine whether I was pretty or not. I could almost sense some kind of tension, electricity dancing between our bodies, my mind connected to a stranger whose name I already ended up deciding on.
I like to draw personalities into people, making them different from who they really are. The stories I made up have always been better than what they could possibly share with me. When he smirked at me, I knew he didn‘t see me and I wondered about all his pickup lines and compliments he clearly used for everyone, superficial annotations surrounding the subject of desire, which was just a possibility to get some really. How many girls had he been taken home like some take-out meal, striped naked, kissed hungrily, adored temporarily, forgotten about two days later?
You don‘t even know her name, do you?
Or the color of her eyes?
You just remember what got her off. You remember her moaning, how it turned you on. You remember the marks you left on her as if she was your possession.
He carved his fingernails into her skin, embraced her throat with his hand. ‘‘You’re mine‘‘, he whispered.
She’s hers before she is anyone else‘s. She’s not an amusement-park, a drive-in to his pleasure. A nice handjob, beautiful big blowjob eyes that look up to him, down on her knees, as if she was inferior. He makes her swallow to keep her quiet. But I‘m not gonna be quiet.
Him: ‘‘What‘s wrong with hooking up? Having an one night stand?“
Me: ‘‘You have to be into it.“
Him: ‘‘Clearly you are, otherwhise you would be dressed differently.“
Side note: I can wear whatever the hell I want, but apparently the amount of naked skin I should have covered is an invitation to sex. Some people still haven‘t learned to keep their hands to themselves. Asking for consent hasn‘t even crossed his mind because I was clearly asking for it. Just like I was doing my makeup, only to please men. I‘m sick of being an object, being mensplained and made fun of.
‘‘OH, is it that time of the month again?“
No, you jerk. But I do think it‘s funny that men associate anger and rebellion with periods. This is not just a mood swing. This is none of the ‘‘I didn´t mean to say this“ things, although sometimes I wished I’d be crying over something as stupid as a cupcake, because there‘d be nothing to complain about or fight against.
To explain why I’m offended when being told ‘‘I like you better without makeup“,
when overhearing men and even women calling somebody a slut, because she makes use of her right to say ‘‘Yes“, because she enjoys sex
as if it was a sin,
as if it was a privilege reserved for men to be sexually active and enjoy their pleasure.
Who would you want to have sex with if women weren’t enjoying the act of doing it?
Do I really have to point out why it´s disrespectful to be interrupted, pay women and men different salaries, shifting contraception from being a mutual responsibility to a mainly an issue of female concern?
Comments like ‘‘It was her own fault, walking down the street alone, that late“ or ‘‘She drank too much, she‘s really the only person she can blame“ make me sick to my stomach. Supporting rape culture makes me sick to my stomach. The victim isn‘t the problem, it’s the rapists and the people that support their ‘‘She was asking for it“ claims.
When touching her…going down on her…has he felt the shudders scrolling down her spine, the numbness she has covered her skin in to protect herself from his touches? Has he payed enough attention to the words she uttered, a plea for mercy before she started to stare at the ceiling for too long? Has he realized he‘d destroyed her body, her comfort within her bones.
He‘d made her a prisoner, forced her to feel dirty even after she´s showered fort he 5th time already but his sperm is still all over her.
See, I don’t understand why you’d leave someone feeling like shit.
I don’t get all of the things society had implanted in our minds, directing whom to be and how to act.
So what if I´m too lazy to shave my legs because I´m tired of accidentally cutting into my skin? What purpose does it fulfill anyway? So I can look pretty? As if my value was bound to that and the amount of attention men gave me, making me ‘‘desirable“.
Why should anyone be bothered if I’m not wearing a bra? See, this is my body. It’s not a man’s property and neither does society own it, dictate me how to treat it. I don’t have to have kids and no, I won’t change my mind. I’m not asking for permission because I never needed it anyway.
Society doesn‘t determine my thoughts and behaviour and I wished men were as strong as to recognize that they don’t have to fit into an expectation, which has been filled with barbed wire from the beginning. Crying has been stated to make them weak, that it’s something women do.
“Get yourself together.“
“I didn’t raise my son to be a sissy.“
Men are not allowed to show affection to another male. “He’s quite important to me, but you know, no homo.“
Men are not allowed to express any emotion that could be attributed as feminine, leaving them swallowing all of their feelings and worries, forcing them to be dealing with their issues on their own.
Reaching out for help or admitting that things aren’t going the way they’re supposed to would be an embarrassment, humiliating.
So…how to be a successful man?
1st: Go to the gym, possibly 3-5 times a week, build muscles so you can look intimidating, it’s also a great method to release your stress and anger since you are not allowed to feel or express anything other than rage
2nd: Avoid the color pink, you should also watch out for violet or “girly interests“, they could make you gay
3rd: Do not talk about how much you love your girlfriend, that´s gay too
4th: Brag about everything. How you went to London and Paris and New York and Coachella. Brag about how much you spent on your clothes, about how many women you slept with or how many pushups you’ve done this morning, brag about how you were the first in elementary school to learn how to read the clock. Brag until you don’t know what to brag about anymore
5th: Ladies first. Hold doors, let them enter first. Pay for dinner or the cinema entrance or whatever it is you’re going to. Protect girls because they cannot look after themselves, that would be ridiculous. Tell them what it is they really want or need because they can’t make decisions for themselves
And lastly: Don’t provoke any fights but beat the crap out of somebody if they insult you or make any moves towards your girl
This list only contains a few conditions you have to fulfil if you want to be a man. This list determines daily life, this list is total bullshit. I’m gonna leave you with this:
If we all dislike following rules, why do we play along?